


the disappearance of jaren smith (being revamped)

by goatz



Category: Banana Bus Squad, Gay baby gang, The Misfits (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Everyone Needs A Hug, F smitty, F/M, How Do I Tag, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Don't Even Know, I Tried, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Going to Hell, I'm Sorry, M/M, Major Original Character(s), Not Beta Read, Original Character(s), Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Relationship(s), Sad with a Happy Ending, What Have I Done, What Was I Thinking?, Why Did I Write This?, YouTubers - Freeform, lol, suffer, yeah i have gay characters deal with it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2020-09-23 19:01:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20345119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goatz/pseuds/goatz
Summary: it's a well known fact that smitty and kryoz are both members of the famous gangs in los santos - gay baby gang, and banana bus squad. surprisingly, however, they're not very popular. in fact, quite the opposite. they tend to be disliked, to the fact they're known by the majority of the town. they're well known, but not exactly liked. if a civilian or police were to admit, the duo would be the scariest or the most threatening members. the duo is known by mothers, children, by the news, the lowest of lows.it's a question that's always been circulated through gossip and something no-one can ever know - for as long as each gang has existed, they had been rivals, as least publicly. so, how is it that there are two of the same people in each gang? it's been circulated that maybe they're just robots, carbon copies of the originals.while gay baby gang was lowkey, and secretive, banana bus squad was known almost world wide. and yet, these two manage together, in a world of guns and battles.many feel envious. many want to be well known. yet, the two are put up to the test when their worst nightmare comes true - and they are falling, falling, and falling. only one made it back the night of the incident.





	1. prologue

it's a well known fact that smitty and kryoz are members of both bbs and gbg, despite the duo not being very popular. it's known not to just the gangs, despite being rivals, it's known to civilians, the cops, the lowest of the lows. how? is what some ask. how, did these two manage not to only get into banana bus squad, one of the most famous gangs in los santos, but also the all time secret gay baby gang?

many feel envious. many want to be in both, have the thrill these two have.

but it's not everyone who understands the risks the two factor.

and only one made it back.

-

they've been gone for just about two hours now, when brock gets a phone call. he looks down at his phone, sensing it vibrate on the desk. he blinks when he reaches for it, gently, thinking to himself, _kryoz_. he blinks slowly, before he answers the call.

it's all he hears at first - the huffing, the disgruntled breath. shaky, uneven. brock sits up, the chair underneath him squeaking, dimming the loud in the room. it's all he hears, then kryoz whispers out, "meet at the usual spot."

it's all brock needs to hear.

-

to say he's surprised, is an understatement. but, to be fair, the bbs didn't come into contact with the gbg often, so brock understands. he warily eyes vanoss square up with fitz, the two glaring at each other, but understandably. tensions have been high with turf wars going on - both gangs have dealt with them, some crossing into their territory wearing the f of fits on their masks. thugs wearing owl masks have invaded the others, too. brock looks around with the few guys he'd managed to grab who were open to meeting at the spot - wildcat, delirious, and basically.

he won't lie, he's becoming a little uneasy as he listens to the two leaders quarrel in the background as he watches for kryoz to come up. he didn't provide brock any information, but brock has an uneasy feeling settling into his stomach. the heavy breathing, the uneven voice, it just gives red flags to brock. he doesn't know how to feel.

he watches silently before he hears footsteps, and the argument silences. brock can't help but be greatful, but that feeling is quickly swallowed down as every eye is trained on kryoz as he steps into the room.

his head looks cracked - forcefully hit with an object, brock guesses - and because of it, blood is stained on his face and is coating the majority of his hair. his eyes are dilated - concussion? he's stumbling and leaning on the wall, hand pressing against his side, which is bleeding at an alarming pace, and his breathing is heavy.

panic breaks out - they rush towards him, eyes wide, but it's brock, and _of course it's brock_, who notices.

"where's smitty?"

the room seems to freeze.

kryoz's legs give out.

"gone."


	2. captured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> we find out where jaren was taken to.

jaren lets out a small groan, head throbbing as he forces himself to open his eyes. it seems to take all of his energy just to do that; a one simple thing, something he should be able to do on a daily basis. he blinks groggily, everything unfocused. _concussion_, he sourly thinks. _figures_. he blinks slowly, eyes gazing around the room he's been stored in. he turns his head, only for him to squeeze his eye shut and instinctively bring his hand up to block the light over his eyes - only to find out that he can't. he tries to blindly move, only to find out he can barely twitch his hands and legs.

jaren slowly lifts his head, noticing that he's strapped onto a metal table - arms and legs in cuffs, which are bound. explains as to why he couldn't move, huh? looking around the room again, he notices that the room is a stark white - white desks, white cabinets, white chairs. it uncomfortably reminds him of the evil doctor in every single horror movie, like, ever. it makes a chill run down his spine.

he tries to pull against them - clearly knowing he'd get no-where, but a mans allowed to dream, right? the restraints didn't even _budge. __damn it,_ jaren thought again. _stupid kidnapping device._ trying to remember how he got here, jaren squeezes his eyes shut. the last thing he remembers is they... they! john! where was john? panic floods his mind and a bile raises in his throat. he moans out loud without realizing it, squeezing his eyes shut even harder, trying to awaken his memories. was john okay? did he make it out alive? jaren shivers involuntarily. he tries to remember - they were mobbed upon a bunch of dudes, and one held jaren down. he briefly remembers john getting stabbed in the stomach from resisting, but eventually getting hit on the head with the butt of a gun. the last thing jaren remembers is the blood pouring down the other's head, before he felt a prick in his neck, then everything go black.

so he was drugged. _thanks, trusty memory._ he exhales, shakily. he opens his eyes, staring into the light for a moment as his eyes dilate. he didn't know _who_ had him, and to be honest, it was an unnerving thought. he's not sure if he likes that fact.

he jumps, being startled out of his memory when the door open, causing jaren to crane his neck to see who walked into the room holding him. narrowing his eyes, and placing a stone mask on his eyes, he was able to get a glimpse of the woman in a lab coat walking in. she looked no more than five feet, five inches, and her hair was placed in a neat bun. her bright green eyes held a disturbing gleam. she didn't say anything, or even once glance at the gang member restrained to the table. instead, she opened a cabinet, clipboard being moved to underneath her arm pit for easier access and balance for it being held.

she began to pull out medical tools, examining them calmly before putting them on a small table next to the metal table jaren was on.

jaren lifted his head to see what was on the table, catching a site of various instruments used in the medical field: several syringes, scalpels, scissors, and a few vials. he wasn't sure if he liked that much, or even at all. he blinks his chocolate eyes, warily watching her. he jumps, again, when she talks.

"i'm happy to see you're awake, smitty." she said in a cold, chilling voice. it's flat, emotionless. it makes jaren uneasy, and he finds himself leaning slightly away from her. she moves the clipboard from her armpit into her hair, taking a random pen out of her messy bun. she scribbles down some notes with her pen, unknown to jaren of what they are. "you were out for quite some time, i was beginning to think my men had killed you." she looks up blandly at jaren, eyes drooping and staring into his soul.

he breathes in shakily, before he clears his throat before he attempted to speak. "who are you?"

"ah. good question. i suppose, that while i cut you open and run my experiments, you should have a name you can beg to, no? to make the pain stop?" she smiles, almost sweetly. it makes jaren _sick_. he flinches back when she reaches a hand out and cups his cheek, as the color drained out of his face and he let out a small, fearful laugh. the woman only raised her eyebrow at the boy, her smile widening, hearing the fear in jaren's after. "don't worry, boy." she moves around, the clicking of her heels echoing in jaren's mind. "my name is professor julia ecks." she sighs, happily. "and i assure you, you won't be leaving anything soon. i needed a test subject, and perhaps i can get some information out of you as a bonus!"

on instinct, jaren bares his teeth and growls out, "i won't tell you anything!"

she sighs, again, taking a step away as she puts a hand on her cheek and sighs dramatically. "so sad. you're going to need discipline, no? don't worry, boy. i'll make you into the perfect little son." julia says, making a _tsk, tsk, tsk_ sound, before pulling a device out of the pocket of her lab coat. "do you see this, son?" she asks, looking at jaren a way a mother would proudly look at her son - a disgusting feeling rises in the pit of his stomach. he feels uncomfortable. julia looks down, sighing softly.

clicking a button on the device, she picks it up and sticks it in front of his face - a taser. classic. the electricity danced on top of the two barbs, causing jaren to flinch, but not look away. he suddenly finds his mouth dry. she sighs, "if only you were a good son. don't worry," she says, as she dials it up to level one. "there can always be corrections." she pats his cheek again, before she presses the taser against his body. a whimper is ripped out of his throat, as his muscles convulsed. he moans softly, and after what seemed like an eternity, despite it only being a few minutes, she pulls it away, impressed. 

"ah. i guess we can try again, no?" she says, as she ticks it up to level five.

a scream is ripped from his throat, bouncing off the walls in the lonely room. she smiles, her entire face lighting up. "so, smitty." she coos out - he suddenly feels disgusted, uneasy, his own name doesn't feel right. "how long will it take me to get you to tell me your real name, son?"

"n-never," he pants out, gritting his teeth as he attempts to reflect the hatred in his eyes at her.

"are you sure about that?" julia asks again.

"try me." he hisses, muscles weary and tired.

"we'll see." she agrees, patting his head, again. as jaren's muscles convulsed again, his mind could only go to one thing - john. where was john? was he safe, or in this hell with him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey there! just an fyi! this also will be posted on my TUMBLR: https://milkvapewrites.tumblr.com/  
i can take requests there, or if you reallllyyy like this, u could always draw a gift, wink wink.
> 
> this was the first chapter, and i plan on making this a Long book. it'll be work, and i'm still trying to decide what i want to do for it. thanks for reading, comments & kudos appreciated.


	3. lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> john's POV of what happened

a bet. that was all it was supposed to be. a simple bet of whoever could get back to the gbg before they finished this mob, would have to do the other's chores for a week. it was surprising but also not at the same time. because for some reason, their bets could never just be as simple as they hoped. in every single bet the two young men had, there was some kind of interruption - whether it was to stop terf wars, show up to the bbs, show up to the gbg, or just drop dead with exhaustion the minute they got to their own private hideout. none of their bets went as planned.

in all honesty, the two gangsters had never actually finished a bet they had started, even out of the hundreds of bets. with each unique race came a distraction just as unique. there was no end to the circle, and honestly, it kept john on his toes. he loved the feeling of excitement that coursed through his veins for adrenaline, but that wasn't what he was feeling right now.

john feels his legs give out, and suddenly the floor sees so much closer to him. his eyes roll back up into his head and then he's met with darkness.

-

when he awakes, he sees several people looking down at him, and the feeling of someone hooking him up under the arm. the sky outside has turned dark - when did that happen? john hears talking, distantly through his hearing - he feels like he's underwater. his eyes are blurry and he can't focus on any one object. he thinks he can make out the shapes of faces, moving closer, but john doesn't move. he can't move without pain, and he inhales deeply, causing the already quiet car to go silent. he lifts himself up, wincing and grabbing his side - to find it itself bleeding anymore. he sighs out shakily, and tests out his vision again, blinking a few times.

he sticks his hand out in front of his face - the hand he covered his side with, and he sees no red. that's good - no blood. he lets out a soft sigh again, looking up at the ceiling. he gets startled when someone puts a hand on his knee, and his vision snaps to it. their hand is removed faster than lightning. john blinks slowly, vision still swimming.

then, the scene came back to him. they had stopped to get something to eat - after all, they had to keep food in their system to keep their systems running and stay up to date. smitty was a sharp shooter - john was a hacker, it was well known that the "famous" smitty and kryoz duo were strong. it was thanks to them having each other - they had memorized each other's weaknesses and strengths. because of this, they had more power, but whatever it was, when they were alone, they were a duo to not be messed with . smitty was flexible - _very_ flexible. john knew from experience. he had his way with guns, and so did john, but it was a hidden talent they decided not to focus on - only use in situations that called for the two to use guns. and when they did, there tended to be _no_ victims. no word would ever get out about it - they would be sure about it. so, of course, they were walking down the street, casual pistols hidden in their shoes, and knifes up their sleeves - self defense, of course. who _wouldn't_ try out new restaurants?

they went in, and ate. they got called from their communicators by fitz about two small gangs fitting it out on the gbg turf. smitty had rolled his eyes, smiled brightly at john. john had leaned over and thrown an arm around his shoulder, smiling back. it was the brightest smile john had ever seen jaren give him, and he felt an odd flutter in his heart he'd never felt before. it was weird. disorienting. john wasn't sure if he welcomed it or resented it. he decided to ignore it, and rub jaren's head, giving him a fist bump and the two saying something along the lines, _yeah, let's go kick ass, bro!_

even though the two had never completed a bet, that didn't mean they couldn't have fun with each other - in fact, john had always had a blast whenever he was with his best friend - someone who'd been with him his entire life, essentially. the two stalked down the street and a couple of alleys, miles, maybe, they ended up at the destination. jaren and john fist bumped again, before jaren slid his 3D glasses onto his face, and a white wig. john didn't change - he had no identity other than the fact that the name he went by was "kryoz". he saw no reason to save his own face, but it _was_ his idea getting jaren one when the duo first started out, alone. 

john could recall the fight scene by memory alone:

the two had stalked up, and just the presence of jaren as he came out, it shocked the gangsters out of the fight. jaren grinned widely, reaching out and grabbing his gun out of his boot. he picks it up with his index finger, and spun it around on said finger. a wild look sparks into his eyes, and it's this moment that john loves best, while he leans against a light pole across the street. john was always on watch in these situations, it _was_ jaren's time to shine, after all.

out of fear, the smaller gang members all run for smitty at first - the first mistake they make. jaren smiles widely, as he extends his leg, and guts the first guy in the stomach. he goes flying back, while jaren uses his other foot on the ground to twist himself around, and taking the butt of his pistol and hitting it into the back of a guy's head after he passes him. he slumps down behind jaren.

then, theres blood on the ground. john stands up, alert, hand reaching for his pistol as he watches smitty get stabbed. the dude who did it looks down at his own hands in wonder, as if saying, _did _i _just do that_? and then back up at smitty, whose halfway facing him, but eyes now alert and his jaw clenched to hide the pain he's in. jaren growls at the dude and he whimpers, backing away, causing the fight to cease. and _oh shit_, they just pissed off _smitty_, one of the most famous gangsters in los santos. one actually peed himself.

smitty keeps the knife in - knowing if he removed it, blood would come rushing out of his stomach. he looks over at john and nods, and it's all the affirmation john needs. john reaches down, pulls out his own pistol, and simply lines up his shot. three shots, and three guys drop dead around jaren with bullets through their head. john shows no emotions whatsoever while jaren sucker punches the last down, and then pulled out the knife with a moist, squelching sound. he wheezes as blood drops out of him like a waterfall, and drops to his knees. john is at his side in an instant, gun away as if it never really happened - the murders. well. technically they _were_ in self defense, but now's not the time to think about that. he lets out a shaky exhale as he knees down next to jaren, and puts his face into the crook of john's neck. he cradles jaren underneath him while he stands, gaining a groan from jaren.

_we gotta get you patched up, bud_, john recalls saying. _let's head back to fitz's_.

and then, as they walked alley to alley, jaren's wheezes underneath john became shallow - not to mention the amount of blood that was leaving behind. john sighs and kneels down, jaren still comfortably cradled in his chest - when had he moved his arms to wrap around his neck? john ignores it, as he looks down at the injury. it's not deep and it reassures john. it wasn't bleeding at such a heavy pace anymore, since john had been able to keep jaren in a stable position. 

then, that's when they were attacked. the last thing john saw was a dude grabbing smitty as the two got separated when john put him down to protect him - john knew basic self defense, but 100%, jaren was the fighter out of the two. john had been in basic self defense and knew how to shoot guns, but he saw jaren shake his head when he looked back for affirmation - alright, so he has to use his hands. jaren _trusts_ him enough for him to use his hands. he can do that, he thinks. if it's not for himself, he can at _least_ do it for jaren. as a few guys rush him, he busy and they're backing him up, and there's nothing he can do about it. a deep rage folds in him, but he stays true to his vow to jaren - he bends down, sweeps his legs underneath one of the attackers, and knocks him down. he sucker punches the other in the jaw, effectively hearing a _crunch_. he falls to the ground, wailing and clutching his jaw. he fights his way towards jaren - he knows he said no guns, but knifes were never mentioned.

when three guys ganged up on him, john growled out loud and threw his arm down, making the knife slide against his wrist. he comfortably grabs the handle into his hand, and throws it up. there's a wild look in his eyes - one of possession, rage, and pure instinct. _let's play_. he had said, and then totally didn't think about how jaren would fine that line so bad ass - he switched his vision over to jaren, but it was a moment too long. he chokes on his own breath as he watches a younger man grab jaren by the head, and inject him in the neck with a syringe. john's eyes widen, and because his attention was off the battle field - come on, jaren _literally_ had taught him about focus day one. he feels the stab first and then his mind processed it - probably because of the pure adrenaline running through him. his eyes meet jaren's before they close, and john looks back up at the guys advancing towards him. he has no choice but to flee.

tears fill his eyes as he whips around and run - his main gun was down, and it felt like he just lost half of his whole. he growls, he needs an anchor, he need something to drive him back to earth - his mind is running, he can't think properly, and he's lost and hurt and _oh god, why does his heart hurt like that_? he trips. a single lone soul chasing after him kicks him and then throws the gun at him - john presumes it has no bullets - and it hits him the scalp. he lets out a yell of pain, and before he registers the pain of a skull cracking with the pure brute, john had his gun whipped out and shot the other dude in the head with no remorse. when john stands up, he's panting, his vision is swimming, and his whole face is nearly rose red with blood. he lets out a frustrated yell and then kicks the wall with no remorse for his feet.

he clutches his side, and wobbles down the alley, leaning against the wall and heavily preferring his right side to walk. the wall behind him leaves a trail of blood.

with a shaky hand, he reaches into his pocket, and then fishes his phone out. he presses a contact, heavily breathing... _hey, brock..._

-

john looks down at his hands. he could've saved jaren. he could've used his gun - while breaking his trust, of course, but wasn't that less important than saving him? john feels tears well up in his eyes again, and he angrily wipes them out of his eyes, trying breathing techniques to calm his beating heart. he was angry, annoyed, beyond upset in general. when john looks up again, his view is more focused, and he blinks a few times.

looking around him in the car, he looks from face to face, and surprise registers on his face to see vanoss and fitz in the same car together without high tensions. he shakily sighs, eyes scanning to see who else was there - swagger, fitz, toby, vanoss, delirious, wildcat, basically and moo. a little bit of relief comes out of him and he clears his throat, and the others look at each other, then all of them stared at brock.

he rolls his eyes and then squeezes john's leg as he scoots forward again. "do you mind telling us what happened, kry?"

with a shaky breath, he nods.

-

after recalling the events while he hobbled after them, them all listening intently - john was never stupid enough to use jaren's real identity - they went with a fake alias. skylar lucas was all he was known as to the two gangs, and john himself was just known as kryoz, refusing to use a name.

they lead him to a warehouse that the gbg owned, a warehouse they didn't care much about, giving it up to the bbs was nothing important for them. john sighs deeply, his eyes worn and tired. "i betrayed him, you _don't_ understand. it's all my fault, dude. i could've like... fought harder?" he frowns deeply when they get to the door, his stomach and body already aching with the extra stress. he sighs, softly. brock just pats his back and leads him to the couch - it wasn't the first time john had been here, and although he would never admit it out loud, he's crashed here once or twice uninvited. times get tough.

"kryoz, dude. come on, it wasn't your fault." fitz said, eyeing him. he nods over to swagger who turns around, wordlessly and stalks towards the kitchen, basically waving to the dudes in bbs, before stalking after him. the two struck up conversation in there. "if you think about it, you're our best chance! fuck, bro, you're our best hacker! if anyone can find him it's yo-"

"after you rest," moo speaks up, glaring at fitz with his Momma Brock eyes. fitz put his hands up and backs away, secretly telling himself he'd never admit to anyone else he started sweating a little bit. wildcat rolls his eyes. "kryoz, you have to understand things like this happen. it's a part of the job." moo says, softly.

john looks up at fitz, then over to brock, and then he puts his hands down, a new fire in his eyes. "if someone took sky, they are going to regret the day they were ever born." the knife hidden in his hoodie sleeve rustles, and a deep, burning fire awakens in him, slowly. all he could do now, is get the two gangs together - everyone loved smitty. it was no lie, in fact it was true to see, even as an outsider. he exhales. "they're going to die." he mutters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for Official_Tommo_Draws for beta reading this chapter and fixing my mistakes, ahaha <3  
again, feel free to find me at my tumblr: http://milkvapewrites.tumblr.com/  
i take requests if wanted!


	4. introduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jaren gets grounded.

breathing had become unbearable. every breath felt as if the gangster's lungs were on fire and they _burned_. all he could do at this point was wheeze uncontrollably, as pure pain coursed through every vain in his body. underneath his usual clothes, his wrists and ankles had been rubbed raw by the handcuffs - he didn't even have the energy to scream anymore. his throat burned and had long since stopped working. the contractions from his muscles because of the electrical current coursing through his body was wearing him out.

he had bloody friction burns caused from straining against the restraints that held him down to the metal table, and his energy was depleting quickly. every time he thought or tried to shake his head, a migraine would come on and he would immediately feel dizzy. he shifts his head to rest his cheek on the cool metal and sighs in relief when the dizziness and nausea would go away. 

then, his body went into another round of convulsions, limbs jerking wildly as the taser was pressed again his side for the thousandth time. jaren squeezes his eyes shut, opening his mouth to scream, but no sound coming out. he lets out a whimper, it's the only sound his vocal cords could manage to make. he lays there on the table, opening his eyes as he watches nothing in particular on the ceiling. he tries to stop his brain from reeling, and then turned his head to glance over at julia, who stood over him, smiling proudly.

"smitty!" she coos, petting his hair. he was too exhausted to feel any emotions. "you've done such a good job, you're such a good son!" she bends down, and places a kiss on his head. "too bad we're just getting started, but if you _did_ wanted this to stop, you could just tell me your name. wanna go ahead and tell me?" she smiles, clearly expecting something.

jaren eyes her before he coughed, and then tried to talk. "please," his voice is sore, hoarse and sounds choked up. it physically hurts him to talk. he gave a weak, cocky grin. "how about you take a shower and b-brush your teeth? then we might talk."

julia gasps, her eyes blowing wide. she scoffs, before she presses the taser against jaren's chest again. a smile comes back to her face, one of delight, at hearing the antagonizing scream that rips through his throat once again.

"the longer you delay," she scolds, "the more painful the punishment is going to get."

the gangster's body stopped convulsing when julia finally took the taser away from it's painful place on his rib cage. jaren simply shook his head, squeezing his chocolate brown eyes shut. it was in hope to ease his pain. he was not going to tell this woman his name, no matter what she threw at him. jaren wheezes out, "go to hell." he bites his lip hard enough to draw blood, to keep from screaming.

julia frowned and murmurs, "such a pity." she places the taser on the small table next to her, and her hand delicately, almost lovingly. it skates across the table in look of a certain object. her hand feels over the tools, and then she finally picks one up. sharp, silver scissors. julia cuts off his shirt, exposing his torso. then, his pants. at least down to the kneecap. she's not some kind of pervert, _gosh_. "at least it'll be fun for me!" she says, chirping like a happy bird.

jaren watches in horror as his shirt was destroyed right in front of him and removed from his body. it exposed his scar-littered torso - and the only other person who knew about them were john. they did counts on the scars every night to see which new ones he got and for personal count in case a situation like this were to ever happen. plus, jaren was plainly insecure about it. julia's eyes skimmed his chest over, while jaren watched in an uncomfortable wishing that john was here to kick her ass. woman or not. this was _sick_.

"so many scars," she says, almost enthralled by them. her voice is held with a tone of pure excitement as she puts the scissors down, and reaching down for a scalpel. "i think, since you haven't learned from your previous punishment, we can give you more, no?"

a look of absolute horror was set onto jaren's face as julia dug the scalpel into his side, carefully and precisely slicing the external oblique muscle in the process(A/N: this is essentially fat. this is right next to the hip, right above. basically your side - between the ribs and between the hips). jaren's body thrashed, pulling against the restraints that held him down, screaming. struggling made it worse, but what else could he do?

julia tsks as she moves away from cutting the deep slice that went from his side to his thigh - it was enough satisfaction. she sighs as she takes a huge step back and looks at her carving - it read out, in caps, _PUNISHMENT_. blood spilled out of the open wound, spilling onto the cool metal table and quickly filling the air with its metallic scent. the blood wouldn't stop and jaren quickly felt a storm of light headed-ness coming on.

the sharp pain in the gangster's stomach reminded him that he hadn't ate in days, or hours. he wasn't sure how long he had been in this prison for. his stomach let out a loud growl, grabbing julia's attention. 

she gasps, overdramtically, and then pats his head. "hungry? we'll set you up to an iv after this session." she laughs softly. "not enough to have you heal, of course! that won't do me any good. just enough for you to _live_, not have your body focus on regeneration." she rolls her eyes.

"y-you can't do that!" jaren wheezes out, then gasps in pain with the stress his body was under.

julia lays the scalpel back down, and rolls her eyes. "obviously, i can. it's a mother's duty to punish her child. a mother should have _complete_ control of her child, no?"

"no!" jaren yells at once, squeezing his eye shut again.

"naught boy," she sighs, again. a scream tore from jaren's throat, his body straining against the restraints, tears burning his eyes. julia had plunged a scalpel into the open wound with powerful force, and twisted it harshly. jaren could've sworn on his life that he felt his muscle fibers being ripped to shreds. warm blood seeped from the wound and then onto the table, before finally dripping onto the tiled, stark white floor. the puddle of his blood on the floor was growing bigger and bigger.

"you're right." she frowns, sighing as she rests her head into the palm of her hand again. "i won't control you. not _this_ version of you, at least. i'll destroy every ounce of your being until you _do_ listen to your mother!" she laughs softly, as if she was a child who got all she ever wanted on christmas day. jaren shakes his head, gritting his teeth.

julia walked to the other side of the gangster and began slicing the oblique muscle on the other side, the same way she did it before: "see? now you have _two_ punishments!" it amused her to no end to watch the gangster just struggle and scream in pain.

"are you ready to talk, kiddo?" she asks, leaning over to be on his eye level, looking almost sad he wouldn't. "i don't have time for delay!" she warns.

a chill runs up jaren's spine, but he sneers at her, anyway. "i won't.... i won't tell you anything!" he gasps in pain, again. it feels like the hundredth time doing a gasp for pain - and he probably wasn't far off from the accurate number.

"must you make this so difficult? mommy just wants you to succeed!" she plunged the scalpel into the newly opened wound, sneering as another scream came from the young gangster. she then narrowed her eyes as the gangster tried to bite back his screams to glare up at her. julia leered unpleasantly at the gangster; all she really needed to know was the gangster's real name to access his medical records, and any other information he could dig up. julia looked into her son's dark chocolate eyes. she hadn't broken him just yet, but she knew that it would be soon enough.

"t-that all you got?" he pants out, glaring.

julia giggles while cleaning off the scalpel off, and placed it back onto the metal table. "far from it, smit." she coos, and jaren bristled from the way the witch abused his nickname. julia walked over to a computer and began typing while the screen hummed to life with activity. "i have just barely started, but it seems i must take more... drastic measures. since you can't seem to learn from your punishments. however, i just need some blood for right now."

jaren watches skeptically as a machine appeared above him. it had three needles on the end, and all of them were connected to a big bubble-like thing. jaren assumes that would be where the blood goes. well, looks like he was about to find out. the machine lowered and the needles plunged into his chest. he screamed out in pain as blood was drawn tortuously out of his body. he tried to struggle, this was much more painful than the last time.

"you... couldn't have just... used a syringe?" he wheezes.

julia smiles while watching the gangster struggle. the woman's attention was diverted from the brunet when the door opened, and a guard came in with an object in his hand.

"ah," julia sounds pleased. she smiles and takes the device. "my wrist watcher! thank you." the guard simply nodded and left without a word, or even a glance was thrown at the screaming gangster on the table.

finally, the device left jaren's chest. he took a desperate gasp of air as he tried to shake off his light-headedness, he thinks he could process the logical side of his brain thinking that the woman had taken a lot of blood. he was still trying to recover from the wounds the horrible bitch had inflicted on him earlier. it took what seemed like forever for jaren to finally crane his neck to look at julia, who began putting labels on the vials of blood he had collected. licking his dry, chapped lips, jaren hatefully spits out, "i can't wait for kryoz to come and kick your ass."

julia paused in her work, and looked over at the gangster stripped on the metal table. "aw, baby. he won't come. i forbid you from seeing that bad influence!"

"he'll come!" jaren says back, making the best hateful glare he can make up with all the pain he was in. "he always does!" he spat weakly.

julia scoffs at her son while she walks over with another set of medical tools. "don't you think he would've found you by now, then?" she sighs, dreamily. "if only he wasn't such a bad influence, then maybe." she starts sloppily stitching up his wounds on his sides.

"he's looking for me!"

"are you sure about that, smitty?"

"you don't know kryoz!"

"oh, baby. i might not know him, but you belong to me now! even if he did come, he wouldn't want you back, anyway." she smiles.

jaren cringed as she began stitching up the other wound. "y-you don't know kryoz!"

"nonsense. do you think he cares about you that much?" this got jaren's attention instantly. "you are nothing to him, smitty. you are nothing but a joke, a wannabe, to him."

jaren gritted his teeth, pulling hard on the restraints. he wanted to punch this woman - she knew nothing about his best friend. "kryoz-" jaren was interrupted when julia roughly grabbed his hair and lifted his head, forcing the brunet to looking right into her eyes. 

jaren held his breath.

"kryoz," she hisses, "could care less about you. you are nothing more than a pain to him. it's obvious he didn't want _you_ as his duo."

"you. don't. know. kryoz!" he spits.

julia sneered, smacking him. "and you think you do?"

"yeah!" he hisses. his pain was completely forgotten. this woman was pissing him off. how dare she say that john doesn't care for him? julia knew nothing about their relationship; they were something more than just best friends.

julia only rolled her eyes at the gangster before looking at her watch. "well, look at that. i don't have time to punish you anymore," she frowns. she began cleaning the lab, with jaren watching her every movement. "pity." the tools were cleaned, and then placed in the proper drawers. the blood on the floor was cleaned up. when she was finally done, she picked up a device off the counter. 

jaren's eyes went wide: a wrist watcher - it was something that cops often put on prisoners to see their every vial and status. attempting to take it off would result in a shock so powerful to knock someone out. he began to struggle desperately as julia placed the watch around his wrist - a needle coming out and poking directly into his vein.

"you seem familiar with a wrist watcher. not this one, though. you try to take it off, and it will cut off your windpipe, cause you to go into a heart attack, or shock you. whichever it feels like doing. poor boy," she sounds almost teasing. julia then gestured for the guards to come over.

jaren heard their laughter before he felt them pick him up. he felt his restraints being removed, and his weak body was roughly yanked off the table. he tried to support his weight, but his knees buckled under him, and he realized suddenly with a shocking clarity how weak his body was from the torture and lack of food. he was dragged down a bright hallway.

a guard opened a door and the guards flung the gangster into the room, slamming his face into the wall before his body crumpled to the floor. before he opened his eyes, he felt his arms and legs being restrained with heavy metal. shackles. figures.

a guard came over and pulled him into the sitting position. an iv was roughly shoved into his arm, and then a needle was shoved into the side of his neck, slowly forcing a colorless liquid into his veins. jaren didn't know what it was - but it was working. and quickly.

jaren watched through blurry eyes as the guards left one by one. then julia, who jaren didn't know who followed, knelt down, leaning in close. "have a good thanksgiving, smitty. see you in a couple days."

_days_? she was just going to leave him here?

shaking his head furiously, and struggling to stay awake, jaren watched as julia walked out of the room, the door slamming behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, we have a schedule figured out:  
this will be updated with a new chapter every:  
Saturday and Sunday.
> 
> if you have questions, ask them in the comments or on my tumblr! thanks! you can find that here: http://milkvapewrites.tumblr.com/


	5. update

julia ecks lets out a groan of frustration. she was currently twirling a small vial of blood between her fingers and watching the screen that showed the video feed of smitty in his cell. the young gangster was battling hard to stay awake, but julia gave the young man another two minutes before the hopeless battle would be lost. the groan of frustration quickly morphed into one of pure joy when she saw the gangster try and pry the collar off his neck. though there was no sound, julia knew the gangster was screaming as his body convulsed on the ground. she _had_ warned him, but like most young adults, he didn't listen.

it only make julia chuckle as she saw the young gangster attempt again and again. to be honest, julia could sit there all day in wonder and be perfectly content watching her new son get his punishment. it would never get old.

julia's attention was immediately caught by footsteps coming from behind her. she spins around in her chair, and her eyes fall onto a man that looked in his early or middle thirties - he was a clean man, with brown hair and blue eyes.

"you wanted to see me, professor ecks?"

"dr. o'neil," she says, resting her elbows and looking at the younger man with serious eyes. "i have chosen you to assist me with my upcoming work: project sm."

he blinks slowly, before he asks, "project sm?"

"yes," julia nodded. "it's a smaller project, but it will help advance the projects gbg and bbs."

"haven't those project been put on hiatus?"

"yes. it has been on hiatus for the past few years, due to lack of..." she glanced, and cast a quick glance to the screen to her son and smiled softly while watching the gangster continue to struggle. "... lack of assistance." she turns back to the younger man. "but now, we have a willing test subject, and his knowledge could put my research ahead fifty years overnight." she smiles toothily.

"if i may ask, ma'am," dr. o'neil says, "how will this test subject put your research so many years again, in just one night?" he glances at the screen and spots a figure lying on the ground. he wanted to get a better look, but julia turned off the screen before he could. was that a protective glint in her eye?

julia smiles, and this caused o'neil to frown. "you'll see." she smiles. "once my tests have been conducted, i'm putting you in charge of making sure his wounds are treated, and made ready for more tests."

o'neils frown only deepens - that wasn't what he asked, but he cleared his throat out of respect for his superior. "and this subject... was just willing to do these tests?"

"yes, he was!" she chirps happily, lying right through her teeth. "the subject wanted nothing more than to assist me." she smiles brightly.

still, o'neil felt a deep uncomfort stirring deep in his bones. having a subject walk in and wanting to help was extremely rare - practically unheard of. but o'neil was wise, and didn't want to press on the issue; julia was the head scientist, and o'neil was honored he was even selected to assist her. "when will it begin, ma'am?"

"after thanksgiving," she responds, almost absent-mindlessly as she glances at the picture on her desk. "i'm still trying to track down my son. my husband complains about me working so much, and i want time to spend with him... and there are a few... erm.. psychological tests i must put our subject through." she answers, honestly.

"i understand.. is it your son, j-"

julia nods, effectively shutting o'neil up. "now, have a good break, dr. o'neil. i'll see you on monday."

"thank you, ma'am. have a good break, yourself!"

once julia watches him stalk out and hear the door close, she turns back towards the screen and turns the video feed back on. she smiles softly at the fact that the gangster had finally lost his battle to stay awake. she looks down at the vial of blood in her hand and she lets out a soft, dreamily sigh.

"you're going to help with getting to these gangs, smitty, whether you like it or not."

-

name: smitty.

status: mia

last seen: november 22, 2018, in los santos.

days missing: four days

-

it had been one of the most strange thanksgiving breaks for john. during the holidays, for as long as both the gangs could remember, everyone had been there. everyone.

now? there was barely anyone. brock sat with john, as did swagger as john was recovering from his injuries. he puts his hands in his face. he was the one that had to announce that smitty was mia, which meant missing in action.

every branch that worked with either bbs or gbg was alerted and the search had been going on for a solid two days now. john was itching to go out and do something - he couldn't just sit here and wait and wait and wait and wait. he was going stir crazy and his heart ached. he wished, just wished, why couldn't it be him? why not him, why'd it have to be jaren?

it was these thoughts that circulated his thoughts over and over again. why? why was he the one that had to get off injured - but off, anyways? the only one that didn't know about jaren was their third best friend - jay. the dude was in college and john didn't want to bring him into their gang shit. he was actually leading a normal fucking life and john wasn't about to take that away from him.

going back to the point: it had been one of the most strange thanksgiving breaks for john. strange, indeed, for a dude, who had stolen and taken people's lives and was actively known as kryoz in two gangs. during the holidays, for as long as john could remember, it was smitty who brought the two gangs together every thanksgiving and christmas. sure, it took a bit more effort to get evan and cam to come (it was ironic, the members would come without permission), but they still managed to drag the two leaders. they were both suckers of jaren's puppy-dog face.

but on this holiday, a lot of people didn't show up, too hurt and desperate to find jaren.

john thought it was beyond strange - he was so used to the holiday being something he could enjoy with the other half of his whole. thanksgiving was jaren's favorite holiday of all time - everyone knew. it was too painful for a lot of the members to attend - they all came and promised his return to john, though.

when a few members asked what was wrong and for more information, john stumbled over his words. that wasn't until brock cut in that john was able to fix his sentences (read: just nodding along with what brock said). it wasn't like john to be so tired, so lost for words, and everyone knew how deeply smitty's disappearance meant to him.

john remembers how he, jay and jaren would go out to stores for black friday. it was a tradition that jaren had started - the three of them _always_ went out on black friday, mainly to cause trouble. this included, but was not limited to, getting in people's way, taking things that people were after and not buying them, all in the spirit just to piss the customers off. the best thing about the tradition was watching john trip people running down an aisle.

jaren was never one to miss his own traditions - and it made his heart pound and squeeze painfully.

john had just told jay that he was sick, which is why when he had his own mini thanksgiving dinner with him, jay seemed suspicious. the last time jaren was sick, jaren had texted him with playful complaints. they were repeatedly of jaren asking for jay to bring him a sandwich. seventy-five times.

but he had received nothing.

absolutely nothing.

and john knew that jay knew that john wouldn't have even been there if jaren was sick. when jay mentioned the last text message he got from jaren, it was: "_dude, brb, what is with fitz and these reports? i meant c'mon, bro. shit blew up, we kicked ass, 'nuff said_." that was the last that he had heard from jaren.

_it was as if jaren had just vanished, and everyone was just completely ignoring it_, jay had commented.

john had broke into tears, and excused himself. he knew jay knew. jay knew that john knew he knew.

john was startled from his thoughts when a hand was placed on his shoulder. he jumps, as he glanced over his shoulder and saw brock giving him a worried look.

"how are you feeling?" he says softly. concern is evident in his voice. "are you okay?"

john dully notes that it wasn't just brock watching him, but wildcat, swagger, and nogla - the irish man had come to say after a while, claiming he was allowed to check up on kryoz, too. just how long had john spaced out for?

"no," john assured his team. he clears his throat. "i'm fine." no amount of lying he was going to do, it was obvious that this little team wasn't going to buy the half-hearted lies he was feeding them. john shifts in his seat, cheeks flushed from being under their intense stares. "i'll... i'll uh, i'll be right back. i gotta go check something." he grunts a little as he pushes himself up from the couch and stumbles a little, before moving down the hallway.

"okay. are we just going to fucking ignore that? what the hell was that about?" swagger asks, looking at the rest of the members that were gathered here to stay with john. everyone knew it affected them too, but smitty's disappearance clearly affected john the most. they were all curious, however, about what had caused the sharp and alert hacker to become completely unaware of his surroundings.

"brock?" wildcat, otherwise known as tyler, asks. he wasn't worried about saying moo's first name - swagger knew it anyways. just because fitz and evan weren't close, he wasn't worried about sharing names to the people he trusted.

brock glances over at the young man, who was furiously typing at a computer down the hallway in one of the rooms - they could all hear it. brock frowns a bit at john, knowing that he should be resting, but he'd be stir crazy, too, if his own wife or friends were missing. "he's anxious. it's clear to see." he bites his lip absentmindedly. he watches john as he comes out, a frustrated expression appearing on john's features. he comes out of the room, carrying a laptop and typing furiously. "i think he's waiting for something." brock says, quietly.

it had been nearly three days now, since smitty's kidnapping. everyone still had high hopes but a few were breaking down out of stress and worried. even with alliances numbers - pewdiepie, jackspeticeye, markiplier - old friends - bryce - everyone was looking, hard. it's as if they were making no progress, whatsoever.

john looks up, sharply. "i'm going to vinewood hills," he announces. he's already walking towards the door to presumably get on a bike. frustration was evident in his voice.

brock stands up, quickly. "we'll go with you." the others rise from their seats as brock grabs the attention of john, who opens his mouth to protest about company. "kryoz. you're not healthy enough, and you can't fight."

john's jaw snapped shut, and he let out a sigh. "fine."

-

the ride to vinewood hills was silent.

too silent.

there was a huge amount of tension radiating off the members gathered in the car they'd decided to take, most of it coming off from john. the rest of the guys were just as anxious. not having smitty around to lighten the mood was _awful. _when they finally pulled up to the neighborhood, and stopped moving, john bolted out of the car before any of his friends could even blink an eye. he raced to a house none of the others knew about, so they were stuck running after him. john skipped all the steps in one leap, and rang the doorbell three times to the house.

"you could've fookin' waited for us!" nogla spat crossly, "we don't know what the fock this house is!" he gives john a small smack to the head, before crossing his arms, almost sourly.

john didn't respond, or even acknowledge that the other guys were there. he simply cupped his hands around his eyes and looked through the window, trying to see if anyone was coming to the door.

"be patient," brock says, softly, as he puts a hand on john's shoulder.

still, john didn't say a word. instead, he cast a quick glance to the driveway. byze's car was there, but jay's wasn't. so, byze was here. he was getting frustrated - why hadn't byze answered the door yet? he rang the doorbell again, and again, and again, and again, and again.

a hand gently grabbed john's wrist. "kryoz, _please_." brock says, sternly. "you gotta calm down."

before john could yell, the door to byze's home opened. john blinked at seeing an exhausted byze. john's eyebrows raise. "hey, jordan, bro. hey. are you okay?"

"you dumbass, john!" he blows up. the others take a step back and jordan and yell at kryoz's newly found out name - john. "you didn't think i wouldn't fokin find out? you just decided not to tell me, or jay, or grizz! what the fok!"

john exhales deeply. "so you saw it on the news, huh?" he looks a little uncomfortable. "of course i fucking saw skylar's disappearance on the news! the news are going crazy, because they saw vanoss and fitz working together! what the fuck, man?" he steps aside, anyways, though, letting the other men into his home.

it felt strange to john - jordan's home has always been a warm, welcoming feeling. it was always full of life (no doubt thanks to the visits jaren, jay and john all took to their fourth "j" member). now? it had a cold, almost unwelcoming feeling.

"tell, me, john." jordan croaks, as he turns around after shutting the door and going to sit down on the couch. john quickly claims the spot next to him. "how long has it been? we haven't heard from him in days. is he okay? have you found him?" it was clear that he desperately trying not to cry.

john is silent, not looking at the other guys in the background. swagger sighs, and just mutters, "well, fuck man, this sucks. should've brought weed." a smile cracks onto tyler's face.

john turns his head away, again. he couldn't tell jordan - but that _was_ the whole point of coming here. he's sure the other man would've known, but fuck, he didn't realize it was going to be this hard to tell him. he should've never come here - he couldn't tell jordan. jaren wouldn't have wanted him to be at risk or be involved. finding jaren was a gang matter, they didn't want to risk civilians disappearing. 

byze reaches over and gave a shuddering sigh when he squeezes john's hand. "tell me. please."

john stares at his long time friend. he wanted to tell him so badly, but jaren wouldn't have wanted their friends from before going into a gang to be in danger. finding jaren was a gang priority, but it's been three days. there was nothing. no leads, no clues.

"he's... he's..." john breathes in deeply, anxiety clawing at his chest. he couldn't even complete the sentence - it was heartbreaking for everyone watching. "jordan. he's missing."

jordan's eyes widen, and he choked in horror. "he's missing? since when? is that what the news is about?"

"three days. going onto the fourth." john sighs deeply, before telling him a summarized version of the story - not including how he killed anything or anyone, of course. he just sums up what happened and jordan's trying to hide his crying by the time he's done.

"we haven't... we haven't found anything, jordan." john continues, rubbing his own eyes. "he just... got dragged away. but.." he inhales, deeply, before reaching over and taking both of jordan's hands into his and looking at him with determination in his eyes. "we'll find him. i promise. we'll bring him home."

jordan completely burst at that. the four knew what home meant - each other. the game nights, them chilling, petty arguments and bonding. they were a family. john was just greatful that jordan remembered to say skylar instead of jaren. john lets him cry into his shoulder, while watching the wall with a permanent frown on his face. "we'll bring him home." he whispers.

after a bit, the group walked to the door. "john," jordan calls as john opens the door. he looks back with a raised eyebrow. "use the key, next time. i had to make a speech to yell at you." john grinned and gives a thumbs up.

he walks out of the door, and waits for jordan and his eyes to make contact before john sighs and then walks back over to the car, the other guys just. awkwardly following him.

-

once they were back to the home, the guys scattered around the warehouse. john sat on the couch and typed furiously, again. he pulls up jaren's profile - it included his fake name, his age, his date of birth. all john could look at what the new information that was recently added to his profile, only three days ago. typed with his own hands. he exhales, shakily.

he has to remember - where were they at? near the pier, right? john looks up and then at tyler and brock. "hey. tyler, brock. our search begins at the pier. it's the last place i remember us being."

they nod, but before john could give the orders to move out, a screen popped up onto the laptop. the face of vanoss and fitz appeared, and neither looks happy.

they were so busted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my tumblr is the same as always! feel free to shoot me a message (:  
have a happy labor day


	6. isolation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warning: there is psychological abuse. read at your own safety.

julia leans back into her chair, a clipboard gripped tightly in her hand. she was currently staring intently at the screen of her captive gangster. she's observing the young gang member and writing down his psychological behaviors, seeing if she was close to getting her punishment through her new son's head. the scientist cast a quick glance to her calendar, almost offhandedly. today marked the day of the first week of smitty in complete solitary confinement. julia allows a soft sigh to escape her lips. she wanted to monitor the young man's psychological behavior after being locked in a room with no human contact for seven straight days.

precautions were taken to make sure that smitty received no contact of any kind, or heard any noise of anyone walking by his cell - julia wanted her son in complete silence for his time out. the only noise smitty would hear would be himself, and the almost nonexistent hum of the light in his cell. everyone was ordered to wear wool socks over their shoes, to silence their steel-toed boots hitting the ground outside the cell. when they decided that the young adult needed food, they made sure to deliver it when he was sleeping to prevent interaction.

at first, smitty didn't seem to be affected by the lack of human contact. he just slept through most of the first two days, so unfortunately, there wasn't many notes to make. it wasn't until the middle of day three, did smitty start to react to the loss of contact. he would get to his feet, barely able to keep his balance, and then he would pound his fist against the wall. calling out for someone, anyone, it didn't matter who. it has his own desperate attempt to search for human contact.

then, smitty's behavior then began to escalate by day five. he began to talk to himself. what he was saying, the scientist didn't know. she'd taken a mental note - get audio installed for smitty's cell surveillance system. however, it was clear that the gangster was talking, singing, doing anything, even to the point where it looked like he was having a conversation with himself. he sang and danced and made noise until his vocal chords had swelled and strained.

on day six, smitty seemed rather paranoid - he began to pick and bite at his fingernails, tug at his hair, and rock back and forth. he also began digging his nails in the grime on the wall; writing and drawing things that were incomprehensible.

by day seven, smitty began to show signs of hallucinations. sometimes, the gangster's head would snap up out of nowhere towards the corner of the room. he would tilt his head or call out to whoever or whatever he was seeing, sometimes even reaching out to the unseen visual with pale, trembling fingers.

day seven was also the day when smitty would have random, frantic outbursts. he would get to his feet and grab the chains and pull them as hard as he could, trying to get them free free from the wall and calling out to whoever would listen, before giving up and sliding to the floor. julia would grimace due to the show of pain that cast over the gangster's features when he pulled stitches.

julia was like a child with a lolipop - she was positively gleeful about his response. it was like someone took a switch and turned it off, and it was amazing to her to see just _how_ fast the gangster began to break with the lack of social interaction. every person was different, julia knew this - they could all go for a certain period of time without human interaction.

humans are inherently social creatures, and from the research julia had done, watching old news segments and anything else she could dig up on each member of the two gangs, she came to conclude that smitty was extremely social. he seemed to love talking with both gangs, any media member brave enough to approach, bystanders, really anyone he could find. it was almost as if he needed social interaction to survive - to stay sane. it was, personally, so weird to julia. for someone with such power, he was extremely laid back and easy-going. he often expressed emotions without a second thought, and nothing stood out more then the back and forth interaction between smitty and kryoz.

unlike the rest of the gangsters, the two seemed to have the most unprofessional relationship in the gang world. it was the most surprising thing julia had ever seen. there was no mistake that they were extraordinarily close, an oddity in the gangster world, and working together seemed simple for them - like a snap of the fingers. the two were often seen making jokes, messing around, and stopping and talking to children (or anyone, for that matter. julia couldn't decide if it was just for show or a warning.). but there was also no mistake that kryoz was rather protective of his partner. julia often pondered what would make the gangster so protective of the other.

was kryoz smitty's lover? or was smitty just a young adult that had connections in the right places and the two just hit it off immediately? was kryoz forced to take the other under his wing?

she had so many questions, and these questions would cause many new variables to arise. the main question at the moment was what made one of them tick? julia wasn't too worried - in time, she would be able to love her new son, and he'd love her all the same right back. time was not an issue for her. she'd get all the information she wanted - and needed - from smitty.

the scientist turned her attention away from her notes and back to the screen.

the gangster was now pacing back and forth as far as the chains would allow him. his hands were scratching at the wrist watcher around his wrist, or the shackle around his ankle - he was doing something to keep himself occupied at all times. every now and then, the gangster would stop pacing, and run his nail along the wall. he repeated the motion several times, until it clicked in julia's head what he was doing. he was making a tally of how many days he had been there.

an awed noise escaped her mouth before julia was able to register it. the number was way off - too many tallies had been added, but the gangster kept adding to them. julia hums in thought, watching the young adult add tally after tally. did the boy really think he had been there that long? just how long did it feel for this gangster? julia leans closer, watching the gangster's actions carefully. his chocolate brown eyes never seem to stop moving, looking around the cell frantically as he paced. even when he was sitting still, there was always a part of his body moving. just how long was a minute to him in there? an hour? a day? had to have been an eternity. it probably made it even worse that the gangster couldn't even tell what time it is.

julia hums as she swerves around in her chair, looking up at the ceiling as she sighs - her son had endured quite well. he _did_ deserve social interaction, she supposes. she looks over at the guards that stood, waiting, by her door. they both had stone expressions. she rests her elbows on her knee as she leans over. "i believe my poor son has had enough of solitary confinement," she coos, almost as if she's sad. "why don't you give him the interaction he wants! make sure to have fun, boys." she smiles.

they nod.

"oh! one more thing," she exhales, slowly. "use a little restraint - i need to be the one to get to my son first." the guards simply nod, then leave to have their "fun".

julia turns around in the chair again, faces towards the screen and hums, disappointed noises coming from her as she stares at the screen once again. smitty had taken a seat in his cell, legs pulled up to his chest, his arms wrapped around his legs and his head was buried in his knees.

"don't worry, smitty." she whispers. "social interaction is coming."

-

the cell that smitty was held in was disgusting, and thanks to a single hanging light bulb that flickered continuously, the gangster had gotten a clear view of his new home. the walls were a disgusting brown color - there was even mold growing on the ceiling of the cell, there were things on the floor... they looked like the bones of an animal. the cell literally smelled like shit. maybe that was because it didn't really help that smitty had to go when nature called. they didn't give him much to eat, maybe an apple or a banana every once in a while. how long the span of time was between the fruits was unknown, but what goes in, must come out.

the gangster had chosen an area that was the furthest away from him, as far as the chains would allow him to do his business. even getting away from it didn't get rid of the smell - he did what he had to do. the disgusting room also made his wounds worse, to get on a semi-better topic than shit. the cuts weren't cleaned to begin with, and they were stitched up horribly. smitty could literally feel the burn of the infection - the growth of the bacteria growing in his wound was a slow and painful process. he wanted death. he wasn't even sure if he was thinking it for the meme at this point, or he really just wanted to die.

chocolate brown eyes slowly drift down and take in the fresh scars that cover his body. scars had always been a soft spot for him, and made him insecure, but he didn't know how he would show these to anyone. if he even got out of here alive. he had gotten back from what he had started to dub the "sessions", which felt like it had been months ago with how slow time seemed to be moving in his cell.

it was a shiver that wracked him out of his thoughts. he was no longer in his uniform - bright colored outfit and fake wig completely gone, revealing him - jaren smith, not skylar lucas. short brown hair, not long white hair with a hat at the top. a guard was ever so kind to give him a pair of black shorts - that was it. he ran his hands over his bare arms, trying to get rid of the goose-bumps that plagued his skin. he was so cold... no... he was _freezing_. would it kill them to give him blanket, or even maybe a shirt? something to keep him just a _bit_ warmer in the cold cell they kept in locked in - he figured it wouldn't hurt them if they did. the only thing that was keeping him a tiny bit warm was the warm feeling in his heart that john and the gangs were going to come for him. julia was trying to break the hope, but jaren knew better and wasn't going to let some words derange him. julia was nothing expect a deranged, worthless excuse for a human being.

jaren knew that they - the gangs - were coming. john was probably searching every inch of the city for him. john was going to find him, and jaren couldn't wait to watch his best friend kick the ass of the insane people who kidnapped him in the first place. gun rule out of the question. for what they had done to jaren, he feels like it is fair. for not feeding him much, and for leaving him in basically solitary confinement for what must have been weeks. it wasn't surprising to jaren that he felt like he was going stir crazy.

at first, the one thing he would do was sleep - he was tired all the time, lately. then, when it came to the point that he couldn't sleep, he'd start to he'd start to keep himself occupied by chewing his nails almost completely off. sometimes he would stand up and bang his fist against the wall, calling out desperately for john, fitz, vanoss - even jay or jordan, sometimes. he wanted to go _home_. to jay, jordan, and john. he missed them. he wanted movie nights, he wanted comfort, he wanted _home_. he wanted his people.

sometimes, when thoughts would get too painful, he would go over to a wall and headbutt it, causing enough physical pain to distract himself. he was sure he gave himself a concussion at some point. sometimes he would quietly talk to himself, recite the parts of a gun, balance and recite the names of the guys in each gang, and would write in the disgusting grime that covered the wall. he did anything that would keep his mind occupied. however, he would mostly sleep, and when he woke up from his uncomfortable sleep, he found food on the disgusting floor in front of him.

it was always fruit. sometimes it would be rotten and taste foul, but it was something to eat, something to get into his growling stomach.

as time passed and no one came into the cell, it started to come to the point where jaren would hear things, or even see things out of the corner of his eyes. there was one time he swore he heard john call out his name. he had gotten so excited, but john never came. there were also times he would see a dark mass, and he would always think it was vanoss. but they were all just hallucinations. to get his mind off hearing and seeing things, the young gangster tried to keep track of how long he must had been captive by the maniacs that worked at... this unknown place. he dug his nail into the wall, leaving tallies; each crooked stroke a day in this hell hole. so far the total he had was a hundred days. was it right? he didn't know.

right now, the young gangster was sitting propped up against the wall, and slowly brought his knees to his chest, cringing at his pulled stitches. he then edged his arms around his legs. he had finally run out of things to keep his brain occupied, and his body was too weak and sore to pull on the chains. so now, the only thing that kept him occupied, was him asking himself why hadn't banana bus squad or gbg come yet.

did they even care? did they even know this... this julia bitch had him? were they close to finding him? were they were looking for him? maybe julia was right...

"s-stop it, stop it!" jaren yells at himself, his hands going to his head and fingers digging into his hair. he desperately wanted to rip the dark brown scruff right off his scalp. "they're coming, kryoz is coming, and byze is coming. don't let that freak get into your head, smitty!" he says to himself, trying to hype himself up.

julia had been drilling doubts into jaren's head during his torture sessions, repeating the same words. continue the repetition, and the brain will begin to believe it. his brain was slowly turning against him.

_john doesn't want you back._

_ the banana bus squad thinks you're a joke._

_ you don't have any friends._

_ your family doesn't even want you, they didn't want you from the start._

_ fitz keeps you around for entertainment, to watch you screw up!_

_ kryoz mocks you behind your back to the gangs._

_ he didn't even want a partner._

_you only get in his way._

the gangster tugged at his hair even harder - it was so hard to get those words out of his head. they continued to bounce around in his brain, getting louder and louder. sometimes, jaren would question if the gang was even coming for him. he couldn't believe that they would just abandon him like that.

jaren is startled from his thoughts when the heavy cell door swings open and hits the wall hard. he shut his eyes instantly at the bright light that came and assaulted his eyes. after a moment, when he cracked his eyes open, and lifted his hand to block out the bright light, he saw the outline of figures, people. and there were two of them. jaren's heart begins to pound in his chest and a smile makes its way across his face.

he doesn't know who the figures are or what they wanted. he doesn't really care - the gangster is happy that he isn't alone anymore. something sparks in his chest - hope. but once the figures figures step closer and the sick laughter reaches his ears makes his smile instantly drop. his hope dies out like a sputtering fire.

"hey, _boy_." one of the guards sneers, standing over the gangster with a dark look. "we came to play with you today."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow this took SO long. i have a few things to share, as well.
> 
> i have had a UTI and have been struggling to attend school, let alone come upstairs to get on the computer and write. for this, i want to apologize - i’m currently like. four chapters behind lol. my fault entirely, i’ll be playing catch up. don’t worry - this story is not abandoned. my health has just been in the dumps.
> 
> something i realized i didn’t clarify in chapter four* where john was going to visit jordan, jordan says “of course we knew,” - he was referring to the two gangs working together. since jordan and jay know of jaren’s and john’s activities with the gangs, it’s abnormal that the two gangs are working together and jordan was saying “of course we know that there’s something wrong, the gangs don’t usually work together”. which leads into him noticing that “skylar” was gone. jaren has a streak of running away when he’s upset and that’s when john tells jordan the news that he’s missing, which is the code word for kidnap.
> 
> something else i wanted to point out is that john’s identity revealed(his name) will be mentioned in the next chapter after jaren’s point of view. i didn’t forget about it, the guys just don’t know what to say about it and were like “uhhh yeah. we’ll play along until you’re ready to address it or someone else does lol”.  
* chapter 4 on tumblr, chapter "5" on archive of our own
> 
> another thing i wanted to specify is that if you wanted me to do little one-shot requests or anything like that, i am always willing to! a chapter should be out today since im finally healthy again to be on the computer and normal updates should be back in business. thank you again to my beta reader, couldn’t have done this without them <3
> 
> check out my beta reader: https://1sunnydaze0.tumblr.com/  
check out my writing tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/milkvapewrites


	7. author's note

SORRY! this isn't a chapter and i wanted to apologize.  
i've given it some thought and if you're not following me on tumblr, i announced that this story is going under a revamp/rewrite. obviously it'll still follow the themes of torture and abuse, but i had only had up to chapter ten previously planned. i've been working hard on the chapters and rewriting all of them. i'm 5/6's done, and will republish all of the chapters so they make more sense & i have a definite plot to go with. 

although i do have a question for you guys - i've been planning to make a few side stories, and would you prefer them to be in this AU after it's done, or would you prefer it to be different AUs? thank you So much for the support. it's so fucking wild how many people have clicked to read this, and i am So appreciative. i won't lie though, i was a little burnt out, haha. thank you for 40 followers on my tumblr, by the way. <3

this will be deleted when all the chapters are officially revised! the description already has been so hopefully you guys can be patient with me and wait just a little while longer. thank you for blessing me with this opportunity to write. love y'all.


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